


One Last Ride

by Supdudes95



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Afterlife, Epilogue, Gen, Ghosts, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resurrection, Stag!Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supdudes95/pseuds/Supdudes95
Summary: Arthur dies on a cliff, but that's not the end of the story. He wakes up five years later, in a body that isn't his. Will he be able to move on, or will he be stuck as a stag for the rest of eternity?
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Van der Linde Gang, John Marston & Arthur Morgan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	One Last Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!   
> Okay, so this is a story that just popped into my head one day. I'm sure there are some other stories that tackles the afterlife thing, but here's my shot at it!   
> This is my first time writing a RDR story, so I'm sorry if the characters seem off, or anything like that.   
> I'm also from Norway, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes!

He’d been so sure he’d breathed his last breath on top of that mountain after Dutch and Micah left him there. What he didn’t expect was a pounding headache, fresh air being dragged in by strong, working lungs, and no coughing. What the hell happened? And when did he close his eyes? And why did his body feel so awkward?

He blinked open his eyes, taking in the world around him. The first thing that hit him was his surroundings. He was laying on his stomach, surrounded by tall, green pine trees in the middle of a silent forest. The only sounds were the wind making the trees rustle and creak. The second thing was how everything seemed to look different in the dark light. It was sharper somehow. Everything bounced out at him, making him able to see details, even in the poor lighting. And the last thing was the fact that he could see a lot more than usual, he could almost see 360 degrees around him. Which was odd. The only thing that was out of focus was straight in front of him, and behind him.

“You’ll get used to it,” a familiar voice chuckled. His head snapped up to attention, the pounding in his head making him wince and groan in frustration. It didn’t sound like a human groan, though. The voice beside him sighed, almost content. “Now, Arthur, how’re you feeling, son?”

Arthur turned his head and finally saw who sat beside him in the grass. Hosea Matthews grinned at him. He looked a lot younger than last time he saw him, being shot dead in the chest by agent Milton.

“Hosea?” he tried to say, only for it to sound like a dying cat being strangled to death. Or like a deer. And that’s when he noticed his furry legs, the uncomfortable extra weight on his head and the lack of fingers and toes. What the hell? Why the hell was he a stag? At least he hoped he was a stag.

“The one and only,” Hosea grinned before getting to his feet. He stretched his legs and placed his hands on his hips, as if he was expecting something. “You getting up, or are you going to stay there?”

Arthur wanted to die again. Had he been reincarnated as a god damned stag? Why couldn’t he just die in peace and leave it at that? Hosea continued to stare at him, waiting patiently. Arthur tried getting himself up, the unnatural bending of his legs making it surprisingly difficult, but he managed to rise unsteadily and take a couple of wobbly steps towards the man he saw as a father.

“Why…?” He croaked, not able to finish the question. Hosea looked like he understood anyway.

“I guess you have some unfinished business to attend to,” he informed, starting to move through the trees slowly, letting Arthur get used to his new body as he followed. Arthur shook his head in disbelief. He would probably never be able to rest. Maybe that was his curse for all the things he’d done in his life? All those innocent lives taken for no reason other than a dream about saving his family. And then everything had crumbled under him, letting him watch as the people he loved were taken from him, or show a side of them he’d never believed they had in them. So much tragedy for absolutely nothing. The only good thing was the few people he got out safely. He wondered if any of them were still alive. God, he hoped John had been able to meet up with Abigale and Jack. That was his main mission in the end.

“You saved a lot of people, Arthur,” Hosea turned to him as they continued through the trees. He smiled sadly as Arthur lowered his head. He couldn’t help but feel like he should have done more, saved more people. He knew he probably could, but he’d been too busy doing everyone else’s dirty work for anything else to matter. “I know you probably feel you could have helped a lot more, but be happy with the ones you helped get a second chance,” Hosea placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked. “It’s unbelievable how they all moved on as they did. Tilly has a husband now. I believe she’s pregnant, too, actually. Mary-Beth is writing romance novels. I think they’re selling pretty good. Mr. Pearson owns the general store in Rhodes, believe it or not!” Arthur almost stopped walking. He’d given his family a second chance at life.

“How long have I been gone?” he asked, still not entirely used to the growling sounds escaping his throat. It was astonishing that Hosea even understood him.

“Five years, give or take,” Hosea said with a strange look flashing over his features for a second. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show up.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur looked at the older ghost. The only way to describe him was to compare him to one of his earliest memories as part of the Van Der Linde gang. One of the nights when there’d been only the three of them; Dutch, Hosea and Arthur. Arthur had gone out on his own, believing he could rob something by himself without any assistance. He’d gotten shot, and somehow managed to crawl his way back to camp after a couple of days. Both of the older outlaws had looked like they hadn’t been able to sleep for days. Their movement stressed and their faces somehow older than before he’d left. Of course, in the beginning, Arthur had thought they were worried someone had followed him, and he’d probably have to pack his things and leave, or they’d just kill him and end his suffering. That was until they dragged him to his bed and started to treat the gunshot wound, and scolding him for leaving in the first place. Hosea had even dragged him into a tight embrace. It was the first time they’d called him their son.

“Both Molly and Susan showed up pretty quickly after they died,” Hosea explained. “We’ve all been waiting for you, knowing you probably didn’t have much time left. And then, when you finally died, you never showed up. We were there at the ledge when you…” he trailed off and swallowed. “We wanted to greet you when you woke up, but it never happened. Most of us gave up, thinking you’d been dragged off to hell or something, but I couldn’t stop looking for you. I knew you’d show up eventually, the only thing left was to know where and when,” Hosea frowned. Arthur expected him to continue, but the old con artist remained silent.

“When you say you’ve all been waiting for me-“ Arthur glanced at him.

“I mean all of us. Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Molly, Susan, Jenny, Davey and Mac. Bessie and Annabelle waited with us, too, for a while,” Hosea looked straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. “But after nothing happened, they all began to drift away. I don’t really know where they are anymore. Probably exploring the world they never got the chance to see,” The man paused. “And Eliza and Isaac came looking for you, once.”

The mention of his family made his heart ache. He’d missed all of them so much it hurt. He hoped he’d see them again one day.

“What about you?” Arthur feared the answer. If his suspicions were right, he wouldn’t like what Hosea was going to say. The man hesitated.

“I…” he started, looking down at the grass underneath their feet. “I’ve been waiting around for you since you got back from Guarma,” Arthur gawked at him. “I could hear you cough sometimes at night when we were staying at Shady Belle, and when you returned from you little adventure overseas, it had become so much worse, so I ended up following you around until you collapsed in St. Denis. After that, I stuck close by ‘til the end, so to speak.”

“And when I didn’t show up after I…” Arthur couldn’t get himself to say it, as he looked at the man who raised him.

“I waited wherever your body was,” Hosea said slowly, continuing with his voice slightly above a whisper. “Charles came back and found you, burying you so you faced west towards the evening sun, just like you said you wanted that one time.”

“And then?”

“I saw a stag appear in the grass beneath your grave.”

“Beneath it?”

Hosea nodded and pointed over his shoulder. Arthur looked in the direction and was surprised when he could see the top of a wooden cross on a ledge high up on the side of the mountain.

“You’ve stayed up there for five years?” Arthur said, not wanting to believe it. Hosea shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I’ve been around,” he grinned. “I had to make sure everyone was okay. I took a few trips every week, checking up on old friends, but I ended up here more often than I like to admit. I didn’t want to give up on the possibility of you turning up again.”

“I have to be honest with you, Hosea,” Arthur sighed. “I’m happy you did stick around, because I’d probably be freaking out a lot more if I were alone when I woke up.”

Hosea laughed; a hearty laugh Arthur had been sure he’d never hear again. It was refreshing.

“Now, let’s get you out of these woods so we can figure out why you’re a stag instead of a spirit,” he grinned and tugged at Arthur’s antlers playfully.

Arthur was just about to answer when he heard something come flying through the air towards him. The next moment a burning pain spread through him like flames. The pain made him collapse to the ground and scream until his lungs had no more air left in them, leaving him heaving for breath, fighting to get away from whatever was lodged in his shoulder. He could faintly hear Hosea calling his name through his own panic. He tried to find something to calm him down, but his vision was swimming, and he couldn’t see. Two warm hands found his face, stroking his forehead soothingly to calm him down. He finally caught Hosea’s wide stare, finding it more calming than it should be, like just looking at his father figure made him feel like everything would be okay, whatever happened to him.

He drifted off into the darkness as he heard voices in the distance, cheering at the game they’d just caught.

He didn’t know why it surprised him when he woke up again, at the exact same place he’d woken up the first time. He didn’t feel any pain from where he’d been shot, and a quick check made him realize there was no blood or wounds. He was fine.

He looked around, feeling a little disappointed when Hosea wasn’t there. He’d hoped the man would find him again. Then a thought crossed his mind. What if Hosea thought he’d be gone for another five years?

He hurried to his feet, trying his best to keep his balance as he trotted through the trees, in the same direction they’d went the first time he woke up. He listened carefully for any sounds around him.

Voices not too far in front of him made him slow down and carefully move through the forest, trying to be as silent as possible.

“What the hell is this?” one of the voices shouted. Arthur continued to close in on them. “Where did it go? I know I hit it! You saw I hit it, right?”

“Yeah, you got it right in its damn shoulder,” another spoke up. Arthur stopped between two trees, watching the two hunters walking around, searching for what must have been him mere minutes ago. There was no trace of him at all. No body, no blood, not even any tracks from where he’d been struggling on the ground.

He began to back into the cover of the trees again when he saw someone standing tensely on the other side of the hunters. Hosea looked like he’d aged at least ten years in the minutes he’d been gone. For a second he almost shouted for him, but he caught himself just in time. It would be really foolish if he made a sound and the hunters saw him. He’d just be shot again.

He tried to get Hosea’s attention by moving instead. The man didn’t see him at all, making Arthur wanting to hit his head on a tree trunk. He decided against it, however, and made his way through the maze of wooden branches and dry twigs on the ground. He needed to make sure Hosea knew he was okay.

He was almost right behind the hunters when he lost his balance for only a moment, but it was enough to make him trip on a root, which caused him to step a little too hard to keep himself from falling. The low thud made his stomach twist and the world seemed to slow down as the two hunters turned around. He just had a few seconds to react, but he saw his chance and charged forwards, his head down and antlers pointing towards the people who’d shot him.

They didn’t know what was happening before they were being pushed towards a couple of trees. They screamed as the antlers dug through their skin. Arthur blocked out the sound and focused on disarming them. When he pulled back, both of the men scrambled to their feet and rushed through the trees, leaving behind their hunting rifles. He snorted, amused by their reaction before remembering what he was doing there in the first place.

He turned to see a shocked Hosea blinking owlishly at him.

“You’re back?” he asked quietly, taking a few steps towards Arthur. Arthur nodded.

“I woke up at the place you found me,” he grunted and walked over to him. Hosea just continued to stare at him.

“You just disappeared!”

“And then I found myself back where I started. Are we done pointing out the obvious?”

“This isn’t possible…”

“Says the ghost talking to and understanding a stag,” Arthur tried to roll his eyes, but it ended with more of a head roll instead. His eyes were pretty much locked into one place, it seemed. “I don’t care how it works, Hosea, I just want to know _why_ this is happening to me. Is peace too much to ask for?”

Hosea let his eyes fall to his feet, and Arthur wondered if he’d been to harsh on the guy. He’d probably be shocked too if something like that had happened to him. He was about to apologize when Hosea sighed.

“I guess this unfinished business makes you immortal for the time being,” the older man started. “You’ll probably end up where you started if you die, having to start over in a sense until you’ve finished what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. It made sense, but he wanted to test that theory, just to be sure.

“I think we should test it,” he said and started to look around for a way to give himself a quick and painless death. Hosea’s eyes widened in horror.

“No?”

“Yes,” Arthur looked around, trying to get an idea. “You go back to where you found me. If I’m not there when you get there, just wait a few more minutes. If I don’t show up, you’re free to go wherever you please, and you won’t have to worry about me no more.”

Hosea looked like he was going to refuse, but Arthur kept going.

“It’ll be fine, Hosea,” he met his eyes, trying to look as reassuring as he possibly could. “I’ll be there, just go.”

And with that, he took off into the night. He tried his best to duck under low branches and probably find a more open place so he could go faster, but his wish was soon met by open air. It seemed like he didn’t have to run as far as he thought to find a way to die. He could just run straight off a cliff he didn’t know was there. Which is how he ended up once more in the grass below his grave. Just in time to see Hosea run through the trees.

“You took your time,” Arthur said as Hosea glared at him.

“You didn’t have to do that, Arthur,” the man sighed before sitting down beside him. Arthur gave him a playful shove with his antlers.

“But now I’ll know if I’ve done what needs doing. If I ain’t done yet, I’ll just end up here.”

“What did you do to-“

“It’s not important,” Arthur cut him off, not wanting to go into details on how he’d ended up back in the spot he’d woken up in. “What is important, is what I have to do to get on with my life, or afterlife, or whatever the hell this is. Are you staying with me, or do you want to find peace?”

“I’m going to stay with you for a while. I’ve waited for you this long; I can keep going until you’re ready. We’ll find peace together, or I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to.”

Arthur nodded. He’d hoped Hosea would stay with him. He’d missed the man a lot, so spending a little more quality time with him would be great.

“Okay, then. I recon we’ve stayed here long enough, don’t you think?” Arthur got to his feet, ready to take on what the world wanted of him. Hosea agreed, and soon they were on their way again.

They took another route this time, staying clear of the spot where the hunters had been. They were walking over a mountain when a question popped into Arthur’s head.

“Did John make it?” he asked, glancing over at Hosea, who was balancing on the edge of a cliff. He had a peaceful expression on his face, like nothing could ever bother him again. Not a single worry to stress over. Not even a slight fear of falling off the edge he was walking on. Arthur realized it was just that; peace. He didn’t have to be scared of falling, or anything the world could throw at them. Nothing could hurt him anymore.

“John’s fine,” Hosea smiled. “Other than being an idiot like he always was, but what else is new.”

“What happened?”

“Got into a fight with Abigale about a feud between two ranch owners. Abigale wanted him to stop killing people, John wanted to help his boss, and Abigale left him.”

“Jesus,” Arthur muttered, and made his way down a slight slope. It was more slippery than he was used to. Normally he’d have a horse carrying him through difficult terrain, but this time he was on his own four legs.

“Yeah, but he’s trying to get her back. Last time I checked on him he’d bought a ranch just outside of Blackwater. They were working on getting the house up when I visited him.”

“They?”

Hosea grinned at him.

“Charles and Uncle joined him. They’re trying to help him out. At least Charles is doing his best. Uncle is still the lazy bastard he was when we left them.”

Arthur snorted. Of course, Uncle would lay around and not do much. When did that man ever do anything productive in camp? Always blaming his lumbago. Charles wasn’t a surprise either. He’d been helpful ever since he’d joined the Van Der Linde gang.

“Maybe we should pay them a little visit?”

“That’s your choice, son,” Hosea stopped when they got a bit further down the mountainside, a path leading down towards a river. “If that’s where your instinct tells you to go, let’s go.”

Arthur stopped beside him. He didn’t know what he’d do when he got there, but he was somehow certain he needed to meet his “brother”.

“Well, if you know where he is, lead the way!” he said, following the older man as they continued on their way, back towards where all this tragedy had first started with a ferry job gone wrong.

It took less time than he expected. He could almost see the fence on John’s property when he felt sharp claws dig into his flesh, pushing him down into the dirt. Teeth dug into the skin of his neck, ripping and gnawing, blood pulsing out of the wound. Again, he could hear Hosea scream his name.

It was a fucking cougar. He’d been so close, and a cougar had decided to pounce him.

The pain was shocking, until it faded together with everything else, and he died once more.

When he woke up, he was seething. Not only had he left Hosea back at John’s ranch, but he was alone, and back to where he’d started. Again.

He let out a roar, or as much as a roar a stag could make. Close enough, it lessened the frustration as good as anything, at least.

He got up quickly, falling into that awkward jumping run deer were know for, and tried to remember his way back to where he’d died. He was furious. How many times would he have to die to be able to move on?

He made his way over the mountain, almost slipping over the edge of the cliff Hosea had been balancing on, giving himself a minor heart attack before finally getting a grip again.

He ran past some hunters trying to shoot him. He almost hit a grizzly bear when he rounded a boulder. Another damned cougar chased him for a while before giving up when he’d crossed a river. He actually crashed into a deer, sending them both tumbling down a hill, leaving him dizzy and disorientated for a second. Everything just fuelling the flames.

When he finally got back to where his dead body should be laying, he only found a few broken twigs. The cougar was nowhere to be found, and Hosea was gone.

He breathed heavily as he made his way through the forest. His temper hadn’t died down, and he wanted nothing more than to get over with this damned life so he could move on. He was tired of living. He’d done his part, so why the hell couldn’t he just get some rest for a minute.

His head was yanked backwards by his antlers. He could feel his neck straining from the awkward position. He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the low hanging branches, and now he was stuck. Of course. Like his life wasn’t already stupid enough, he’d gone ahead and made himself stuck in a fucking tree. What a terrific way to die again. If something found him like this, he’d be dead. And then he’d have to travel the whole way back. Again.

He tugged and swore, only making his predicament worse. He was stuck and he was going to die. It was embarrassing, to be honest.

Just as he was about to give up, he heard someone approaching. He tried to see what was about to attack him this time, hoping for a quick and painless ending, but the moment he saw the black-haired man with a scarred face, he knew that to not be the case. John Marston was holding a bow at the ready, an arrow already pulled back and pointed at its target.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Arthur muttered, glaring at the arrowhead, knowing it would be painful.

When the words left his mouth, however, the arrow was lowered, and wide blue eyes met his. Had John understood him?

“Would you look at that,” Hosea walked up behind John. John didn’t seem to notice the old ghost. “Did you get stuck?”

John furrowed his brow, confusion making him look around for a moment, as if he’d heard someone talk. He quickly got out of his trance, and aimed at Arthur again.

“Of course, I got stuck,” Arthur groaned, already accepting having to walk all the way back after being shot by someone he considered his own brother. “And now this fool is going to shoot me because I was stupid enough not to look where I was going.”

John froze. Hosea chuckled as he leaned against a tree.

“Careful what you say, son,” he said and crossed his arms. “You never know who’s listening.”

Arthur directed his attention back at John, who looked like he’d understood every word he’d said.

“You…” Arthur started, ignoring John’s horrified expression. “You can understand me?”

“…Arthur?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
